


Rain

by Pegasicorn



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Comfort, M/M, MacCready's duster, Rain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 16:16:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8760166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pegasicorn/pseuds/Pegasicorn
Summary: He swore the weather was just messing with them at this point. How did it always rain while they were traveling? And why did MacCready always wear that ruined duster when it just meant he'd get soaked?My answer to the question of the missing sleeve.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally this was just going to be a "gotta get out of the rain" fic, but it turned into something more.

It was raining. How typical.

 

Not an hour on the road, and the sun decided to say “fuck it” and get covered by clouds. This seemed to happen almost every time they went on a road trip. Usually they just dealt with it, tolerating the fact they’d both get wet and possibly cold as their parade was literally rained on. But this time...

 

_FLASH!_

 

_BAM!_

 

_...alakazam?_ Liam’s mind finished for him. This was not the kind of orange-colored sky he enjoyed.

 

Then the sky seemed to rip open.

 

“Holy shi--” MacCready cut himself off a few feet behind Liam. “Where did this come from?” he nearly shouted over the sudden downpour.

 

The blonde blinked, looking upwards as the brim of his hat seemed to bounce and droop at the same time from the weight of the heavy drops. Visibility was shot to hell. While the rain wouldn’t kill them, there was no way they could continue traveling.

 

_BAAAMMMM!_

 

Definitely not.

 

“Come on! Let’s get out of this!” Liam threw over his shoulder.

 

“Where?”

 

“I don’t know! We’ll find something!” For now, he went forward, barely hearing MacCready’s splashing footsteps behind him as they continued down the road they were on.

 

They were in a more country area, the buildings fewer and more spread out than other parts of the Commonwealth. And not all of them were habitable. Or safe to squat in for that matter.

 

_Flash! BAAMMMM!_

 

Crap, that was nearly on top of them.

 

Screw it. He’d take whatever might live in the building they picked. At least that was something they had more control over.

 

Picking a house that looked more or less stable, he pushed open the door with the muzzle of his rifle, listening for any signs of life over the steady thrumming of drops. He waited, not hearing anything, but unable to fight off the hint of paranoia he felt.

 

“Is it normal for the hairs on the back of my neck to be standing on end?”

 

Liam smiled to himself at the familiar question, but he silently agreed. It was creepy in here. Stepping carefully into the building, he craned his head around corners, checking for signs of it being inhabited. The main room and kitchen seemed clear, as was the back of the house when he peaked his head out the door for a second, regretting it immediately as that meant adding more rain onto his already wet head.

 

Shaking it off, he gave a flat look at the smirk MacCready sent his way.

 

Down here was all clear, but that still left--

 

What was that?

 

He looked up, straining his ears. He could see the question the sniper sent his way, also falling into alert as he looked around for anything to jump out at them.

 

_Chirrup._

 

Was that a…?

 

Frowning, Liam slowly approached the stairs.

 

And jumped back as a glowing radroach launched itself in his face, exploding into pieces as he shot out of reflex.

 

_Click click splat!_

 

Pale blue eyes blinked widely at the pile of roach bits now at his feet. There didn’t seem to be any more charging down the stairs at least. Sending a glance at the sniper who hadn’t had a chance to fire once, he blinked once more before carefully creaking up the stairs, craning his neck past the landing to check for any other surprises.

 

Nothing but the glow of a forgotten lantern greeted him. It looked like whoever had been here left in a hurry. A sleeping bag still remained where it had been placed against a wall a few feet from the warm light.

 

It was a common occurrence to find old campsites like these. Most days he thought nothing of it, taking advantage of the convenience they presented. And since this rain made travel almost impossible, this was _very_ convenient. There wasn’t much daylight left, so they might even rest here for the night.

 

It wasn’t until after he had fastened the latch on the front and back doors in hopes of dissuading uninvited guests--not that he expected any in this storm--that he realized the sniper hadn’t moved more than a few steps from the door this whole time. He frowned.

 

“You alright?”

 

“Y-yea.”

 

Was that a jitter in his voice?

 

Growing concerned, Liam stepped closer to him. “Are you sure…” He trailed off, noticing the slight tremble of the rifle he held. “You're shivering.”

 

“...yea.” He somehow managed to keep his voice steady this time, but Liam could tell this was not without effort. He took in the slick appearance of the leather duster MacCready wore. Like his own coat, it had taken the brunt of the downpour and most of that would drip off easily enough...but the exposed sleeve of his shirt was completely soaked.

 

“We need to get you out of those wet clothes.” Liam’s clothing had taken a soaking as well, having seeped in at the neckline and around his ankles where the coat didn't reach, but it was nowhere near as much as the sniper.

 

Stashing his rifle away, he kicked the roach bits away from the stairs, carefully taking the sniper rifle from his partner’s chilled grasp before guiding him up the stairs so he wouldn’t stumble.

 

Even with the locks, he didn't trust staying on the first floor of most buildings. They were more of an early warning system, so the more of a warning he could add on top of that, the better.

 

Plus the lantern up there might give off some heat, if only a little.

 

Kicking off his boots, he slopped his wet coat onto the floor, only half-caring about laying it flat enough to dry. His attention was more on his shaking partner.

 

He carefully laid MacCreadys’s satchel belt to the side so he could slide the wet leather from his shoulders, frowning as he took note that aside from the soaked sleeve, the rest of his shirt was relatively ok except for the neckline.

 

“What happened to this thing anyway?” He'd been dying to know, ever since they'd first met, but it hadn’t seemed important enough to ask.

 

“What?” His voice still shook as he stiffly tugged at the sodden sleeve of his shirt. Liam went to help him right away since he seemed to be running into trouble from the way the wet fabric dragged. The fact he wasn't protesting the help was worrying. Luckily the T-shirt he wore underneath had stayed dry.

 

“The sleeve. It’s missing,” Liam pointed out as he shrugged off his khaki button-up shirt, deeming the blue one underneath dry enough to keep on. The same couldn't be said for their pants though. Those would need to be laid out as well. Hopefully the sleeping bag would be warm enough…

 

“Oh. Yea…” He almost sounded reluctant to answer.

 

Liam didn’t like the shaking that was still in his voice too. Knowing the reason for the duster’s state could wait. He sighed, “Let’s get the rest of those wet clothes off of you,” pushing the sniper into a sitting position by the sleeping bag to take off his boots and work on removing his pants.

 

He tried to ignore the fact that, aside from shirts, they were both in just their boxers. He doubted anything like _that_ would happen tonight anyway. He was more concerned about warming the sniper up.

 

...not like that.

 

At least...not right away.

 

Shut up, brain.

 

He busied himself with laying out their clothes so they would dry enough by morning, then shook out the sleeping bag.

 

He was feeling a chill now himself. Temperatures were beginning to drop for the night, and with this sudden storm, they would’ve already been lower. The steady thrumming of the rain hadn’t relented either. The lightning seemed to have passed though; he hadn’t seen any flashes or heard any rumbles of thunder closeby.

 

Deeming the sleeping bag useable, Liam turned back towards MacCready, frowning at how quiet he was. Had he done something wrong? “Hey...come on, let’s get you warmed up.”

 

He didn’t move. Just sat there, still shaking slightly.

 

With a huff, the blonde pushed the sleeping bag closer to the wall before scooping the sniper up, plonking him down on it, and sliding in behind him so he sat against the wall. He zipped the fluffy material up to their chests, pulling the other close, essentially hugging him from behind.

 

MacCready blinked numbly. “Ok...didn’t expect that to happen…”

 

A shrug. “Best way to warm you up. Besides, you weren’t moving, and the last thing we need is for you to get sick from being cold,” Liam made a half-hearted attempt at a joke.

 

He got an equally half-hearted “hmm” in response.

 

This was getting concerning now. Usually he’d be pretty chatty; not...whatever this was. At least he no longer seemed to be shivering as much. “Is something wrong?”

 

He seemed to hesitate before answering. “No...not really…” Liam didn’t miss how his head turned towards their laid-out clothes--the leather duster specifically. “Can’t remember the last time someone asked me about that.” The sniper seemed to silently debate with himself, before he stopped studying the worn leather, sinking back with a deep sigh. “It doesn’t really matter anymore I guess…”

 

Liam decided to press his luck. “So what did happen to it?” He put on the “wasteland therapist” mask, ready to listen and piece back together if needed.

 

“...it started a few years ago,” he finally began. “The night in the metro station, when Lucy--” He cut himself off, Liam feeling him tense up at the memory. He gave him a reassuring squeeze, encouraging him to continue. MacCready tilted his head, bumping his forehead against the blonde’s cheek to reciprocate the gesture. “When I got away with Duncan...in the chaos, my jacket got caught on something. I can’t remember what, but...I panicked, trying to rip free so we could just...get away. It finally gave--tore a big piece of it off right at the shoulder…”

 

Explained the ragged edges. But… “It didn’t take off the whole sleeve though?”

 

He shook his head against Liam’s shoulder. “No. It still held on. I didn’t see a need to fix it either. Not like you can really repair leather anyway… And I didn’t really care about it too much. It kind of looked...interesting…” He shrugged.

 

“So what _did_ remove it?” He was really curious now.

 

“I’d like to say it was some big epic fight with a deathclaw and the only thing that saved me was my sleeve, but…” He snorted at the image. “It’s nothing as heroic or amazing as that…

 

“When Duncan got older, he developed this habit...he’d tug on my clothes whenever he wanted to get my attention…”

 

Liam fought off a smile. Yea, that was definitely a thing little kids did.

 

“One day, I think he tugged a little harder than he meant to...and the sleeve just...ripped off the rest of the way.” The smile was obvious in his voice. “He looked so mortified, like he might cry any second. And I’ll admit, I was shocked, maybe a little annoyed...but I couldn’t get mad at that face. He hadn’t meant to do it after all. So I told him not to worry about it; it looked cooler like that anyway.” Pause. “It kind of does actually...”

 

The blonde snorted.

 

“Then he started carrying it around for whatever reason.”

 

“Probably something like a security blanket,” Liam suggested.

 

“Yea, I guess. He even carried it around when he started getting sick. Wonder if he still has it now...” he trailed off.

 

“I’m sure he does.”

 

He saw the corner of the sniper’s mouth raise in a smile. “Yea, probably…”

 

They settled into a comfortable silence, only broken by the steady sound of ongoing rain. Liam thought MacCready had dozed off until he spoke again. “You know, you should really start charging to listen to other people’s problems at this rate.”

 

“...I’ve actually debated on that.”

 

“Oh? So why haven’t you?”

 

“I’d probably bankrupt the whole Commonwealth if I did.”

 

Snort. “Yea...and it’s not like you’re not already loaded, Mr. _two hundred thousand caps_.”

 

Liam snickered sheepishly.

 

“What were you planning to do with all that money anyway?”

 

“Honestly? I have no idea. Just feels like a way to keep score at this point.”

 

“...” MacCready turned his head to look at him like he was crazy. “You mean to tell me...you’ve been building up all that money... _because you can?_ ”

 

Liam blinked. “Um...yes?”

 

“Son of a--”

 

_FLASH!_

 

_BAM!_

 

Alakazam?

 


End file.
